Whilst being in the depths of my depression and feeling the pain from Fibromyalgia, I’ve had no means of real escape, or anyone to whom I could really talk to, or even understand a part of what I was going through. I have been very much alone with my illnesses mentally, physically and emotionally, and writing this blog is part of my healing process.
Writing this is so important for me, and I hope by doing so, some readers may identify with what I have to say. Sx ☺

Tuesday, 26 January 2016

The Princess and the fucking whore!!!

A man I knew many years ago, once said something to
me that has stayed with me all my life. But it is only recently, have I taken his words
as a lesson.

I will tell you from now, that whatever I write today
is going to be very frank and bluntly honest, because I don’t know any other
way of expressing what I feel.

At the time I think I was about 25, so about 25 years ago, and I did not
take offence at what he said, because it wasn’t said to be offensive or to hurt
me.I believe that he really saw
into me, and saw something that I still had to discover for myself.He was a few years older than me, and
we had struck up this unusual friendship, that we both knew would never be more
than it was.He was a Sikh, and I
obviously wasn’t, but that didn’t get in the way of our friendship, which has
only came about because I frequented the place his of work.There was never any question of
anything else happening between us we just took it, for what it was.

I remember this occasion so clearly, because we were
sat in a local pub, both drinking soft drinks, and I guess he must have been
observing me and given it some thought, because he turned to me and said, I
quote:

“You could have either been a Princess or a fucking
whore!”

I never asked him why he said it, or by what he
meant, I just kind of took it on board and accepted it.But so many times over these years, his
words have come back, resonating loudly through me, and each time, it has made
me stop and think.The statement
itself, is a dichotomy, and as such there is no absolute answer to it’s
meaning.However, time and again,
I am given reason to revisit that particular day, and each time I have reached
new conclusions, and a better understanding of where he might have been coming
from.I don’t actually recall if I
saw him again after that, but it is true that words can leave a remarkable
footprint. I don’t know whether he knew, that his words would have a lasting
impact or not, but I do see the absolute truth in them; which goes to the very
root of me.

I have never looked at myself as being some great
beauty, in fact I only really became aware of my looks when I reached the age
of 26.I never really appreciated
what made me attractive to the opposite sex, or noticed that I had blossomed,
until I began to hear what the men around me said.Throughout school and college, no one had expressed any
particular interest of that kind in me, so I never thought I was anything
special.I didn’t look in the mirror
and see something stunning reflecting back at me, as far as I was concerned I
was just ordinary.But, it would
seem that I had changed and blossomed, even though I couldn’t see it myself,
and still don’t even today!

I have repeated what this man said to me, to few
people both male and female, only to gauge what they might understand.The response from the women has always
been to take immediate offence, and the guys are always reluctant to share
their thoughts; which has only served to confirm that my own thoughts are
right.And this saddens me,
because I have been a victim, caught up in something, that I have only just
realised I have unwittingly played a part in.

His statement, would suggest that somehow there is a
choice to be made.A choice
between being either a Princess or a fucking whore, but that choice or decision
does not exist, nor it is one for me to make.It is made by the attitude of men I have encountered in my
life, have of me.They decide what
it is they want from me, they decide, if I am the princess or the whore, and
they treat me accordingly.

But the simple truth as I believe it to be, is that I
am both.In truth, I am a princess,
but on a romantic level; virtually every man that I have come across has only ever
treated me like a whore.No wonder
I have become so disillusioned.

And knowing and understanding this fact, is horrible.It is not something I am willing to
accept.

All my life, I have been in search of love.True, genuine, sincere and real
love.And yet I have seldom felt
it.I give out enough of it, and
get pretty much fuck all back, apart from men wanting to literally fuck me or
fuck me over.Like I said at the
start, some of you may think I am being foolish, that maybe I should be
grateful for this kind of attention, that it’s a boost to the ego.But what it has achieved is that all I
see are men looking at me, like I’m a piece of meat or plaything, and nothing
more.

The first time I signed up for a dating site, it
didn’t take long before I realised that finding sincerity let alone true love,
was going to be difficult.Within
a matter of weeks, I said to my friends, that I had a “fuckable face”, not a
nice term, but a factual one nonetheless.I came up with this, after so many men made it perfectly clear what they
would like to do, either to me or with me.They saw me, and just wanted to fuck me, and nothing
else.None of them read my profile
or anything about me, but they had assumed that it was okay, to speak to me
like this, with such disrespect, as though my own feelings didn’t even come in
to it.As though that was all I
was also looking for, meaningless sex and non-relationships.Needless to say, I soon put them
straight and then some, but after a while it began to hurt.And if it wasn’t sex they wanted, they
put in a lot of effort to woo me, in order to extort money from me, with their
sad, sorry tales of sudden misfortune, with which only I could help.I have come across them all.

On 2 recent holidays, I was constantly harassed by
men of all ages, shapes and sizes, all thinking they would have a go.As if, just a few nice words were
enough for me to fall down, spread my legs, and invite them all in.I never asked for or solicited any of
this attention, but I got it anyway.I had begun to think that I had some sign on my forehead only visible to
men, it made me feel quite paranoid.It made me feel angry and it made me feel sad.

I am sure I am not alone in this, but as a woman it
is not a compliment to be made to feel like this. To be thought of in this way,
certainly doesn’t boost my ego or make me feel good in the slightest.Maybe if I were still young (&
wild), I might have appreciated this or even made the most of it, but I was
never that girl, and will never be that woman.I guess I am angry, because I never believed that men could
be that shallow, and it saddens me, because they have no idea about everything
else they are missing out on.Everything else that makes me, me, everything else that is hidden just
beneath the skin of what they perceive, because that is where my true beauty
exists.

And so those words that were spoken to me all those
years ago, are still in my head and remain so utterly true.My conclusion to all this, is that I am
both a Princess and a whore, and what men have to learn about me is
that,

‘If they treat me like a Princess, maybe I will also be
their whore, but if they treat me like a whore, they get nothing at all’.

And as for that man, I believe he saw that in me, and
if circumstances had been different, who knows where we might be.